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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383269">Like I Do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LusciaKoushiro/pseuds/LusciaKoushiro'>LusciaKoushiro</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Light Angst, Living Together, M/M, POV First Person, POV Keith (Voltron), Pre-Kerberos Mission</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:21:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LusciaKoushiro/pseuds/LusciaKoushiro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Through out his time at the Garrison Keith has always had one person by his side. As time goes on he learns what it's like to have a friend, to have someone close to family again and maybe more. This is how it started and how it's going.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sheithlentines 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Like I Do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/espurri/gifts">espurri</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A fic written for my Sheithlentine Esper! I was so excited when I saw they wanted something Pre-Kerb. As I have only ever really done fics with flashbacks, I really wanted to tell a story through Keith's eyes. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I had writing it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I didn't know what to expect then, from the day you walked into my life, and if I'm being honest I still don't. What made you place your eyes on me? What made you believe in me or my future? For a long time I had been on my own, I didn't think I needed anyone, but then you took my hand and for the first time since my Pop, I felt like I could trust someone again.</p><p> </p><p>Like so many other days since I came to the Garrison you sit across from me at our usual table in the back corner of the cafeteria with your bright and wonderful smile as you recant stories about your days as a cadet or lavishing me with high praise for my own SIM scores. I can feel the eyes of other cadets on me, like daggers being shot, and it makes me want to run and hide, but like so many times before, you regain my attention with a simple “Just ignore them”. It's hard to some days, some more than others, but with you near I am finding it easier to reign myself in. Patience yields focus after all.</p><p> </p><p>And when my first year at the Garrison came to a close, I not only learned about space and flight, I learned what it meant to have a friend.</p><p> </p><p>The following year somehow felt worse than the first with my fellow cadets. Right from the start I had those looks being tossed and whispers floating about; how I cheated to be here and that it was because of you and you alone that had a place, no matter how much work and effort I put in and on one such a night I found myself knocking on your door.</p><p> </p><p>“Keith?” you sound surprised, but also perhaps worried as you take in my appearance; my arms full of text books and notebooks, a pen behind my ear and my Garrison issued datapad between my fingers. I watch you lean back ever so slightly to look at the clock that rests on the wall in the kitchen before I feel some of the weight in my arms lighten as you take a few books from me and invite me inside with gentle touch of a hand. “Is everything okay?”</p><p> </p><p>I let out a sigh once I could set everything down on the coffee table; “My asshat of a roommate locked me out. I didn't know what else to do since it was so close to lights out that I ran over here. Sorry I didn't give a heads up or anything, I just lost track of time studying...”</p><p> </p><p>“I can see that.” There's a little bit of a chuckle in your voice as you say it, the sound that fills me with warmth. I watch you sift through a couple of my books then pivot on your feet to move to the kitchen; “You hungry?”</p><p> </p><p>I move to protest, the words ready on my tongue, only for my stomach to betray me with a loud growl. My cheeks heat up as I give a silent nod instead, turning away in hopes that you don't notice.</p><p> </p><p>I hear the fridge or freezer door open and close, the tear of some kind of container and then the familiar sounds of a microwave before your footsteps come close again. “Sorry it's not much.” you say, as you sit down on the sofa and motion for me to do the same.</p><p> </p><p>I shrug, as I took up the space next to you; “It's fine, Shiro. I'm just grateful you let me in.”</p><p> </p><p>And there was that smile; “Of course I did, why wouldn't I?”</p><p> </p><p>Subjectively I knew you would, it's why I came here. You are my safe place, my home in a way, but I had given myself some kind of falsehoods before like this and I can't help that little part of me that thinks something would give; “Cause you'd get in trouble with Iverson.” I found my eyes widening in surprise and I was quick to to turn my attention toward you as you let out a full bodied laugh. “Did I say something funny?”</p><p> </p><p>Your laughter died down some as you wiped your non-existent tears away. “No, not in your exact words.” The microwave began its excessive beeping, causing you to rise and shuffle back to the kitchen. I followed your every movement till you were at my side again with the cardboard container of mac n' cheese in your hands. “But you let me worry about the brass, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>I took the food from you with a nod and once your hands were free I felt one on the top of my head and ruffle my hair. I couldn't help but smile around the spoonful of food, even if the cheesy lava burned my mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately the situation with my roommate continued and every night it did so I brought myself to your door and you welcomed me with open arms. But one day I could feel the patience you taught me wane thin as I stood before you in my gym clothing, covered in mud. “I'm so fucking sick of this shit! I didn't do anything to them!”</p><p> </p><p>“How did this even happen?” your voice raised just slightly in surprise.</p><p> </p><p>“We had that stupid strength and endurance test today and someone on MY TEAM for the tug-o-war pushed me into the mud. When I got back to the locker room my uniform was fucking gone.”</p><p> </p><p>I can see it in your eyes, those silver eyes that hold so much understanding and kindness now shroud with frustration and anger. I advert my gaze, fearing that I was the source, but then in the most tender tone I hear you say; “Why don't you take a hot shower and I'll order us some food.”</p><p> </p><p>I wanted to protest, to say I didn't deserve it and that I was sorry. But again I hear that sweet, tender baritone of yours say; “You have nothing to apologize for, so don't even think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>I give a nod and slowly make my way to the bathroom, silently promising that I would clean up whatever mess came to follow me. I let the water run so I could rinse off my hands before closing the door; no reason to coat everything in the guck and grime that covered me. I strip as quickly as I could and step into the warm spray of water and release a heavy sigh. I'm still angry, but somehow it's starting to ebb away.</p><p> </p><p>I stay like that for awhile, with the scrubbing of skin and washing of hair mingled in when a light knock taps twice on the door before I hear it creak and your voice followed; “Hey, Keith?”</p><p> </p><p>It was enough to break me from my thoughts, but then again you have the natural ability to bring me back from wherever I may drift. “Sorry, am I taking too long?” I move my hand just above the knob, ready to turn it off when you kindly reply.</p><p> </p><p>“Not at all. Take all the time you need. I was just bringing you some clothes to change into.” I watch your shadow from the other side of the curtain as you set the small pile on top of the toilet tank. You raise your left hand and rub the back of your neck, a small chuckle coming through; “Though they might be a tad big on you.”</p><p> </p><p>I lower my head back under the spray with a smile on my face; “Thanks, Shiro.” I continue to watch your silhouette for a time as you pick up my dirty clothes and gather the hamper in the far corner, but before you leave, you grab something off the sink counter and place it on the rim of the tub.</p><p> </p><p>And as if you could see the raise of my brow, you answer the unspoken question; “Lavender and vanilla body wash. It will help you relax.” You pause, looking around, for what I don't know, before announcing; “I'm gonna go throw this in the wash, I'll be right back.”</p><p> </p><p>After the door closes I reach for the bottle and pop the cap, giving it a long whiff and in that instance I did feel more calm; because this was the smell of comfort and home... Of you.</p><p> </p><p>Unlike the first few passes of washing with the bar of soap, I let this body wash slide on my skin and linger; using gentle brushes of the mesh loofah for a proper wash. With every glide I take a deep breath, breathing in the scent and let every bit of calm wash over me.</p><p> </p><p>I managed to get out and start drying off before my fingers were complete prunes and reach for the clothes you gathered for me. I could feel some heat rise to my cheeks as I lift a pair of briefs into my hands, sliding them on; the act feeling way more intimate than what the gesture actually is. But never the less, as I put on your clothes and catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror, your sweatshirt falling off my right shoulder, my heart begins to flutter.</p><p> </p><p>I try to put the thought of what it means out of my mind and make my way back to the living room where I see you placing a nice spread of takeout containers on the coffee table. I take in the aroma of what I know is something greasy and very not good for you and give you a smile; “I didn't know the diner delivered.” I sit down next to you then, reaching for a couple of the french fries from the open container.</p><p> </p><p>You just flash that smile at me and shrug, which means they don't and you got it by another means. “I thought you could use some comfort food.” You say instead as you open the final container. “I ordered your favorite cheese burger and fries, but also grabbed some loaded nachos, some barbecue chicken wings; boneless with ranch for dipping and there is some chocolate peanut butter pie in the fridge for desert.” You stand from your spot to wonder over to said fridge and come back with two to go cups, handing me one; “And of course a strawberry milkshake for you and a vanilla for me.”</p><p> </p><p>I smirk as you sit back down; “What? No vegetables or a salad?”</p><p> </p><p>You lean back, taking a long sip of vanilla goodness before taking a fry for what not only seems to be for emphasis, but for an impromptu pointer; “French fries are a form of potato and therefore are a vegetable. Also,” you point to each of the containers; “there is lettuce, tomato on both our burgers and onion on yours with a side of coleslaw, PLUS lettuce, black beans and guacamole on the nachos in addition to two celery sticks with the wings.” You pop the fry in your mouth and gesture towards the cups; “Annnd we have a good source of calcium, not to mention some extra protein with that peanut butter pie. It's a perfectly well balanced meal.”</p><p> </p><p>I laugh, loud and hard; grateful that I hadn't drank any of my own shake; “I stand corrected.” I managed to get out once I caught my breath. I reach for my burger, setting the shake down and lean back, ready to dig in.</p><p> </p><p>You flash that smile again and turn on the TV, finding some sort of cheesy, sci-fi thing for us to get lost in. After a few hours and our food had mostly been eaten I find myself leaning against you, my eyes somewhat heavy after the long day.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay there, buddy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah... just tired.”</p><p> </p><p>“Rest, you have no where to be.”</p><p> </p><p>I curl in closer to you, soaking in your warmth; whether it was because I was chilled or just felt safe I couldn't tell, nor did I care. “What about tomorrow?”</p><p> </p><p>“You have tomorrow off and as it turns out I have the afternoon free. So what do you say to a trip to Plaht City?”</p><p> </p><p>My eyes went wide and I move back so I can look you in the eyes; “But what about class?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don't worry about it. You don't have any SIM courses tomorrow and everything else can be made up easily. One day to relax won't hurt. In fact, I think it would hurt more if you didn't.”</p><p> </p><p>I search your silver eyes and as always, I see genuine honesty; “You sure?” You nod and I curl back into your side, my eyes closing easily; “Okay.” As I started to drift I feel your arm wrap around my shoulder in an embrace.</p><p> </p><p>The following morning I found myself lounging for a little bit with a bowl of cereal and more of that sci-fi marathon that we had on, but once it touched eleven in the morning I decided it was time to get dressed in the now clean gym clothes, it was the only clothing I had after all. A thought of maybe stopping by my dorm while my roommate is out before we go into the city, crossing my mind.</p><p> </p><p>I fold the sweatpants and shirt you kindly lent me on the couch with the blanket that I had woken up with before making my way to your office. As I walked I could feel some eyes of my superiors on me, but they said nothing, that was until I was just outside your door and I could hear Iverson inside. I know I should walk away, but my concern for you cemented my feet where I stood. I lean against the wall and peer inside.</p><p> </p><p>“Lieutenant, you can't be serious.” Iverson's voice was gruff with a hint of irritation.</p><p> </p><p>“What makes you think I'm not?”</p><p> </p><p>“With you training for Kerberos and your other duties, how do you plan on taking care of a kid?”</p><p> </p><p>“First of all, he isn't a kid that needs constant supervision.” Iverson gives you a look, one that was challenging to that statement. In a surprise move, you slam your hand against your desk then point at the man; “That, right there! Keith needs to feel safe here and it's reactions like that make him feel like he doesn't belong.”</p><p> </p><p>I lower my head as I hear Iverson sigh; “Look, Shiro, I know you mean well, but you have to listen-”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you listen.” I peer back in, shocked to hear you interrupt our superior; “Not once have you taken Keith's side or taken what he has said to heart. Even if he didn't come directly to you, I reported the incidents with his testimony, but I have heard nothing since.”</p><p> </p><p>“It's not that simple, Lieutenant-”</p><p> </p><p>“But it is, you all just refuse to look into it because he's a 'discipline case'.” You sound disgusted as you say it and my heart sinks hearing it. But the next thing that leaves your mouth shocks me again; “You said it yourself; he's the best we've had in awhile.”</p><p> </p><p>“He is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then why not fight for him and believe him instead of assuming his roommate and fellow cadets are telling the truth?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a stretch of silence, irritation coming through clearly in his face; “You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I do. You don't know Keith like I do and instead of switching dorms around with another cadet that will potentially treat him the same, I'm having him move in with me; you sat on your hands long enough.”</p><p> </p><p>I couldn't believe my ears and from the look of it, neither could Commander Iverson.</p><p> </p><p>“Every single dorm has already been filled and I refuse to let Keith suffer because every one of you just wants to treat him as the label he was given. He deserves every opportunity to have a bright future; you know it and I know it. The only difference is I am willing to do something about it.”</p><p> </p><p>I rest my head against the wall for a moment, the voices in the office now sounding muddled to my ears. A million thoughts ran through my head at once and I had to push them aside to make my feet move. I quickly run from my spot back to the apartment where I sit on the couch and wait for you to return.</p><p> </p><p>I don't quite know how much time has past as I sat on the couch; my leg bouncing from excitement and nerves, but the moment I hear the door open, my head shoots up and I was back on my feet to face you.</p><p> </p><p>Your expression was as calm as ever, as if you didn't just have a verbal face off with our superior officer. You smile at me; “Hey, Keith, y-”</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to live with you?!” I say quickly, cutting you off. If that wasn't embarrassing for me enough, my voice had kicked up a few octaves higher.</p><p> </p><p>Your silver eyes turn wide, but the smile never fades; not even for a second. “I- well, yes, but how did you know that? I was going to talk to you about it when we went into the city.”</p><p> </p><p>“I heard you talking to Iverson in your office....”</p><p> </p><p>You motion for me to sit, so I do, with you following afterwards. A dark eyebrow now quirked in my direction; “Did you need me for something?” Concern laced your voice with every word.</p><p> </p><p>I shook my head; “No, I just thought I would meet you there, save you a trip back.” I look you over, sitting there in your uniform. I blush and look away; “It's stupid, now that I say it... You probably wanted to change.”</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn't stupid.” you say gently, resting a strong hand on my shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>I'm sure the red in my cheeks is now that of a tomato, but your touch is very grounding. “Why?” I ask softly.</p><p> </p><p>“It's not stupid, it's thoughtful-”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” I snap my attention back to you; “Why do you want to live with me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not? Shiro, this could be very bad for you. You already get looks just by being around me and sticking up for me!”</p><p> </p><p>“So? Keith, I know you and yes, you do ire on the side of temper, but you have gotten better. You could have fought back at any point, but you didn't; you came to me instead.” You shrug in what seems to be nonchalance; “Besides even if my colleagues are judging me, I don't care what they think.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>You squeeze my shoulder, gathering my full attention; “Because they see me as the title they gave me, the same as you.”</p><p> </p><p>I shake my head; “You're more than that...”</p><p> </p><p>“And so are you. So what do you say; wanna change your title to Shiro's roommate?”</p><p> </p><p>I felt a small prickling behind my eyes, now blinking back the tears. I don't cry often, let alone on the occasion for being happy. I smile and give another nod; “Yeah.” And with that, right after the word left my mouth you pull me into a hug.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, change of plans then.” You say as you loosen your grip and allow me to pull back from the embrace; “Why don't I head to your old dorm to gather your things and you can start clearing out the spare room.” You nod your head to the first door on the left in the small hall. “It's not much; just a few boxes and a desk, which you can use of course.”</p><p> </p><p>I nod again; “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I'll grab some lunch for us in the caf and then when I come back we'll make a list on what you need.”</p><p> </p><p>My smile brightened; “Sounds good.” We booth stand from the couch, giving each other a pleased look before we set about our business.</p><p> </p><p>I open the door to the spare room and was surprised to see more than a few boxes that you had indicated were in there, in fact it was like a small storage unit. Slowly I looked over the markings of each one; “Takashi's room... Takashi's room...” I read those words at least a dozen times then seeing the words Baachan and Jiji. Curious I took the boxes from where they rested atop of your stack and open the one labeled Jiji. Inside I was surprised to find toys; some plastic, robot models and a couple more odds and ends.</p><p> </p><p>I hear the door open again, announcing your return. Time most defiantly slipped by me. “Hey, Shiro?” I call, not wanting to leave my spot.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” You call back, placing what little possessions I own down alongside our lunch. I hear the padding of your feet across the floor and stop in the door way; “Oh...” You say in a small whisper; “I'm sorry, Keith. I completely spaced-”</p><p> </p><p>“Who are Baachan and Jiji?” I ask, interrupting you. There was no need to apologize here.</p><p> </p><p>When I turn back to face you, your expression was a little sad, if not possibly thoughtful as well. “My grandparents.” You reply as you step into the room with me and taking up a seat on the floor at my side.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Was one of them a toy collector?” I ask as I take one of the robot models out of the box.</p><p> </p><p>You chuckle softly, taking the toy from my hand into yours; “No, not really. Jiji was just a big fan of mecha shows. I have a small collection myself in those boxes.” You nod your head towards the stacks with 'Takashi's room' written on them.</p><p> </p><p>I tilt my head in question and somehow, like always, you were able to sense my inquiry without me uttering a single word.</p><p> </p><p>“Jiji had bought me one since the day I was born. Always out of reach mind you, but according to them I would stare at them in wonder when I was a baby. When I was old enough, Jiji and I would build them together.”</p><p> </p><p>“That's sweet.” I comment and take a peek back out into the living room and kitchen. It then occurred to me that the living space was quite sparse of personal effects, excluding the model of the Calypso and few awards that were on one shelf by the entryway. “So why are they in here?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>I look you in the eye; “I can hear it in your voice, these obviously mean something to you. So why are they just sitting in a box?”</p><p> </p><p>You sigh and I fear now I have once again may have overstepped. But you shake your head, letting me know my question was okay. “It hurts a little to think about. I know you, better than anyone, can understand that.”</p><p> </p><p>I nod, now getting it. “Jiji passed away...”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah... and Baachan too, within days of each other.”</p><p> </p><p>My heart sank; “Shiro, I'm so sorry. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it's okay.” You take a deep breath and smile; “They would want me to. It's just hard because it wasn't long after I had come to the Garrison. They raised me, so losing them was one of the hardest things I have ever gone through.” Tears begin to well up in your eyes and I move swiftly to make some kind of physical contact. You have grounded me so many times like this and for once I want to do that for you; be some kind of anchor.</p><p> </p><p>You return my embrace with ease; “It's okay...” I whisper; “You don't have to hide your hurt. At least not with me...”</p><p> </p><p>I feel your arms tighten around me; “I miss them...” Your voice is shaky.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” I press your head closer to my chest and rest my own atop of yours; “I miss my Pop too...”</p><p> </p><p>It was an emotional afternoon, but one I think we both needed. Once we calmed down we continue to go through the boxes; your smile and laughter returning with fond memories with almost every item being revealed. We decide to bring out the collection of robots and have them sprinkled throughout the apartment with you telling stories of your Jiji as we set them up. Going through the box of some your grandmother's things I found a hand written recipe book. One recipe of course catching my eye.</p><p> </p><p>“So was your grandma the reason you love mac n' cheese?”</p><p> </p><p>You look over at me where I sit on the couch with the boxes to either side of me after positioning a mecha from something you had called Super Sentai up and let out a laugh once you notice the book I am holding. “Yeah. I believe it was one of the first solid meals I ever ate. She once told me that all I wanted at one point was boxed mac n' cheese and that made her go in search of the perfect recipe. When I first came here I was scared and alone, but on my first day at lunch there was the melty, golden goodness and I knew I was gonna be okay.” You laugh again; “I sent Baachan a picture of it and her response was 'is it better than mine?' Which of course it isn't, but I at least had something to remind me of home.”</p><p> </p><p>I hum, mulling over my thoughts as I look back over the recipe; “We should try making it some time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” Your voice held the utmost delight, but when I chance a look at you, your eyes and that smirk seem to spell mischief; “Do you know how to cook?”</p><p> </p><p>I mirror the smirk; “Do you?”</p><p> </p><p>The challenge in your eyes did not hold as you just slipped into laughter once more and I begin to laugh with you. You made your way over to me, standing behind the couch and place a hand on my shoulder; “I guess it's something we can learn together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Together.”</p><p> </p><p>We made quite the dent, going through all the boxes; putting out things we wanted on display and placing others, like clothes and linens, in another box to be donated. As it was, some of your old clothing was in actual good shape and only in need of a decent washing. We start to unpack what little I had, placing my civilian clothes atop of the desk now that it had been cleaned off and hanging my uniform up in the closet.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you like any of these?” You ask suddenly.</p><p> </p><p>We had fallen into such a comfortable silence that it was almost surprising to hear you. I flick my gaze to the piles you had been sorting; “You want me to give me your clothes?”</p><p> </p><p>Your cheeks flush and you quickly move to rub the back of your neck in that boyish nervousness. It's cute if I am to be honest. “I mean, only if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>I nod, “I want.” I reply. Back before meeting you I would have scoffed and thought of myself as the pity case, but this is you; someone who thinks of others and want nothing in return. Thus we trade places and I begin to go through the clothing, making a third pile for myself and you taking out the last of my belongings from my old, beat-up duffle bag.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Keith?”</p><p> </p><p>Your voice sounds slightly hesitant, so I look up; “Yeah?” And once you turn around to reveal the bandage wrapped blade in your hands I feel myself go slightly pale; “Oh...” I rise from the floor to make my way to you and take the weapon from your hands. “It's not what you think, Shiro, I've had this knife my whole life...”</p><p> </p><p>“Was it your dad's?” There's no judgment in the question, just something curious. And just as you were open with me, I feel it only right to be the same with you.</p><p> </p><p>I shrug; “I'm not really sure... My Pop always had it by his side, whether it was attached to his belt or just within arms reach. I-I almost think it belonged to my mother.”</p><p> </p><p>“Keith...”</p><p> </p><p>“I know I shouldn't have brought it here, but it's the only thing I have left of him... either of them.”</p><p> </p><p>I feel your hands on mine then, the blade between us; “It's important to you, so you have every right to have it.” You look around the room for a moment before your eyes landing on me again with a smile at the ready; “Maybe we can make some kind of display for it once we get a proper dresser in here.”</p><p> </p><p>And as if there was any doubt, I smile too; “I'd like that.”</p><p> </p><p>After another couple hours of unpacking, cleaning and the break to eat our food, we were now sitting in the living room with the TV on for some background noise and a pad of paper between us as we made a list of things I would need for my new room. The first item was a mattress and it would be a lie to say I wasn't a little excited for it. Between the bed in the home and the ones in the dorms, having you say I could have something that didn't feel like sleeping on a rock sounded like absolute bliss. I listed a couple more things for the apartment itself, like a single cup coffee maker, before we turn the page and begin a grocery list.</p><p> </p><p>And just like that, from that day on I felt like I was home.</p><p> </p><p>It was honestly surprising how easy it was to come and go from the apartment, how comfortable you made me feel in my own space- OUR space. The first couple weeks it was very much like falling into a routine and I witnessed more often than not your complete lack of disrespect to the morning's light. I laugh every time I see that bedhead of yours as you stumble into the kitchen as I sit at the counter with a bowl cereal as you sleepily move your hand around to find a coffee pod to throw into the machine; giving the device your profound gratitude for the caffeine it was about to grant you.</p><p> </p><p>Then as you wake up our conversations go into our activities for the day; mine just typically stating what classes I had. In one such conversation I groaned as we were to be assigned a group project.</p><p> </p><p>With you looking every bit of a 'casual morning'; freshly showered, dressed and hair brushed, with your uniform jacket remaining undone as you lean against the counter with the coffee maker, hum into your coffee cup.</p><p> </p><p>“I know that look and just because you say it will be fine doesn't mean it is.”</p><p> </p><p>You hum again, taking a sip of the warm liquid.</p><p> </p><p>“Things have been better.” I agree to the non-comment; “I won't say good, but better.” I slip off the stool to gather my things. Before I head out the door I turn my attention back to you; “Thanks for the talk.” I say with just a hint of sarcasm.</p><p> </p><p>You gulp down the rest of your coffee then give me that smile with a toast of the empty cup; “Any time.”</p><p> </p><p>My heart did a few flips at that and with each passing day I find it does it more and more around you.</p><p> </p><p>By the time my third year had started, coming home to you had become a highlight of mine with all the easiness of our relationship. The feeling, I dare say, is domestic. One night in February you send me a short message, saying you were coming home late as meetings with the higher ups were to no doubly run long. Normally, anyone looking at this message wouldn't be able to tell how you were feeling and would simply guess annoyed at best, but I knew; I knew you were angry and tired and that this was to be another fight with the brass for your right to travel the stars.</p><p> </p><p>I set my pad down onto the counter in the kitchen before looking at our stock of food and once seeing I had everything I would need, I grabbed hold of Baachan's recipe book and began to follow the careful, yet simple instructions to begin the construction of a hearty beef stew. Once everything was in the pot I set it to simmer and begin my homework. I would make notes or work on the worksheets while making periodic trips to the stove to give dinner a little stir and check to see how the broth had thickened.</p><p> </p><p>No matter how many times we have made this together, or anything that involved a gravy, I somehow don't quite manage the thickness I deem worthy, but this time... I smile at the contents of the pot, the liquid becoming thick and smooth as I give it a taste. I hum around the flavor; it was good, really good, but I felt it was in need of something. As I mull the thought over I fail to notice your return via the door opening or even your footsteps. Instead I feel your weight on me; your arms wrapping around me and your head resting on my shoulder. “Smells good.”</p><p> </p><p>I put the wooden spoon down that I have been stirring with and raise my right hand to pat you on the side of the head. “Should be ready soon, maybe in another fifteen minutes or so.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks...” You sound so far away, defeated even.</p><p> </p><p>I want to ask what was said to you, but judging by the way you tighten your grip around me and the slight tremor in your right hand, I think better of it. Instead I grab another tasting spoon and dip it into the gravy; “It tastes good, but I think it's missing something.” You loosen your grip so I can turn to face you. I raise the spoon to your lips in offering.</p><p> </p><p>You moan in delight and your eyes brighten; “That's delicious, Keith.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” I say with a smile, hoping it eases your mind with whatever happened in that meeting; “But do you see what I mean? Something feels like it's missing.”</p><p> </p><p>You take the spoon from me with your left hand and dip it into the sauce again, this time your expression turns thoughtful as the gravy roams your taste buds; “You're right.” You set the spoon down and loom over Baachan's book. While you read, I begin to take down a couple bowls from the cupboard and gather a few items from the fridge and set them on the counter next to the stove when I hear you say; “Oooh, it's the dried oregano.”</p><p> </p><p>I look to the spices I had set out and sure enough the container of oregano had been knocked over and out of sight on the small spice rack, thankfully with the lid on. “Is it too late to add it?” I ask.</p><p> </p><p>You shrug, “I don't think so. A couple good stirs and the last ten minutes should be fine. If anything it might be even better the second day once it's had time to mingle.”</p><p> </p><p>I nod and give the container a few shakes then stir the herb together with everything else. With a tap of the spoon against the pot I turn back to you; “Wanna find something for us to watch and we'll eat in the living room? Kinda have all my class junk sprawled out over there.” I nod my head towards the dining area.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. Uh...” You blush and look away from me; “You mind if it's something a little indulgent?”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever you want.”</p><p> </p><p>I see you take a breath and nod, placing a hand on my shoulder when you pass me in a silent thanks.</p><p> </p><p>Once our dinner finished cooking I made sure to turn off the burner before spooning it up into our bowls, which was accompanied by a slice of bread with butter. I bring over your serving to you along with a beer and set it on the coffee table. You didn't drink often, but on a day like today I figured you could use one and by the look in your eyes, I knew I was right. But like before I don't comment on it, I just smile, nod and grab my food so I can return to your side.</p><p> </p><p>Once I make myself comfortable I glance at the television screen. There were no explosions or fast car chases, but instead a man just gently grazing the cheek of a woman to wipe her tears with no sound other than the melody of a piano. “So what are we watching?” I ask, popping a spoonful of stew into my mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, just some old rom-com... It was something I watched when I stayed in the hospital one time. Don't ask me why, but...”</p><p> </p><p>“But?”</p><p> </p><p>“But I found comfort in their love story. With all their ups and downs, they always had each other.”</p><p> </p><p>I look at you out of the corner of my eye, your gaze on the screen and your hands at your side. I place my bowl down on the table, taking a deep breath, I place my hand atop of yours. The motion now shifting your gaze and my cheeks heat up as I feel your eyes on me.</p><p> </p><p>“Keith?”</p><p> </p><p>I steel myself with another breath and before I could think better of it, I serge forward to capture your lips.</p><p> </p><p>It only lasts but a few seconds before I pull away. I take in your shocked expression, fear now settling into what I had done. “Shiro, I-” I can't bring myself to say sorry, not when I know now what the flipping of my heart had meant; knowing it's name.</p><p> </p><p>You slowly bring your hand to your lips; my name again on your tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“I know I shouldn't have... but, I love you; I think I have for awhile, but I couldn't name it until now.”</p><p> </p><p>Before I could say anything more, your lips found mine again. This time we meld together in something slow and tender; your right hand cradling the back of my head while my hands seem to not know what they want to do and find some kind of purchase in your shoulders and back or within your undercut.</p><p> </p><p>You pull away in favor of wanting air and rest your forehead against mine. “We have a lot to talk about.” you say somewhat breathless, but there is a smile in your voice.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” I say softly.</p><p> </p><p>“With Kerberos coming up-”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“And my... you know...”</p><p> </p><p>I move my hand and place it over the stimulant cuff; “I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you still...” Your voice wobbles.</p><p> </p><p>“Always.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Six Years Later...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I hear the sound of the door to our quarters open aboard the Atlas; you dragging your feet with every step till you were standing behind me where I stood at the stove, stirring our dinner. “Smells good.” you say as your wrap your arms around my waist and rest your head on my shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>I tilt my head best I can and brush my lips against your white locks; “Will be ready soon. You wanna go throw on our favorite rom-com while I finish this up?”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds like a great idea, baby.” You tighten your embrace and find my lips for a chaste kiss before moving to the living room.</p><p> </p><p>I watch you go with a fond smile and the knowledge that through all our ups and downs, we will always have each other. After all; no one knows you, like I do.</p>
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